


open my eyes in the right way

by hippocampers



Category: History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippocampers/pseuds/hippocampers
Summary: Typically, it is Don that rises first.Not today, though. Today, David has the pleasure of watching Don doze.





	open my eyes in the right way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sepulchrave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepulchrave/gifts).



> this is so so so late, and not even what she prompted, but a very late, very happy birthday to the lovely daisy.
> 
> title is from ed sheeran's "wake me up" because i want to write fics about this pair for all ed sheeran songs

Don is truly beautiful like this. He’s lying on his front, soft snores filling the air of their tiny room with a comforting regularity. The creamy expanse of his back is interrupted only briefly with freckles likely earned from spending his summers gardening shirtless. David lets his slim fingers explore the smooth skin, smiling fondly as Don huffs a little in his sleep at the sensation. It won’t be long before Don wakes naturally anyway; he’s been waking at 6 for as long as David’s known him, body-clock trained to get eight hours exactly. No more, no less. Again, the predictability is reassuring. It’s one of the things David loves so much - Don’s adherence to routine is grounding, a balance to his own irrationality. While Don sleeps eight hours on the dot, David oscillates wildly between sleeping far too much or barely sleeping at all.

Typically it is Don that rises first. He’s quick to wake fully, leaving David still asleep to make two cups of tea - Don’s own has three sugars, and is strong enough to stand a spoon in; David’s, by comparison, has no sugar, just a drop of honey and enough milk to make Don wince - and bring them to bed. More often than not, he’ll let David doze a little longer, setting the tea down and climbing under the covers for a brief scan of the newspaper before the other stirs.

Not today, though. Today, David has the pleasure of watching Don doze. The hand caressing Don’s back dips lower. Just a little. But definitely lower, beneath the crisp white sheet haphazardly splayed across Don’s lower body. Hiding that pert pale arse from view. A shame, really, David thinks. He pushes it down a little, hand cupping the smooth curve of Don’s backside.

“Enjoying that, you scoundrel?” comes a voice from further up the bed, rough from sleep. David glances up, expression reminiscent of a child caught stealing biscuits.

“Just a little. Good morning, love.”

“Morning.” Don clears his throat, head resting on his forearms as he smiles fuzzily at David. “Do I get a kiss?”

“Of course,” David smirks, dropping his head to press a closed-mouth kiss to Don’s lower back, chuckling lightly at the shiver it sends up the man’s spine. He doesn’t think taking Don apart like this will ever make him tired. He takes pity, though and - ever the benevolent god - shuffles his way back up the bed to give Don a proper kiss, wandering hands finding their way to Don’s hair. “You look like a hedgehog.”

“Mm, thanks,” Don chuckles against his lips. In the brief break, he twists to make himself more accessible, those broad hands settling at David’s waist. Each callous sends sparks across David’s skin, culminating in a shiver of his very own. It clearly pleases Don; he tightens his hold just a little to pull David closer still until David can feel the soft hair of Don’s chest tickling him. “This is a nice wake-up call.”

“You’d get it more often if you slept in like a normal person,” David laughs into the juncture of Don’s neck and shoulder. “I’m not waking up at this time every day just to squeeze your arse until you stir.”

Don gives an exaggerated expression of hurt, practically _pouting_ before he gives up the pretence and breaks into a grin. “You wound me, David.” He’s fully awake now, the sleepy haze gone from his eyes and replaced with mirth. Outside, a siren wails in the distance. A more typical London alarm clock. “Couldn’t sleep, hm?”

David shrugs. “Yeah. Don’t know why. Couldn’t turn my brain off.”

Don’s brows knit together in concern, and he starts making that movement with his thumb; tracing little circles across David’s hip bones with a reverence usually reserved for hymn books and his Bible. “Should have woken me.”

Another shrug. “It’s alright. I read for a bit. Cleared my head.” He bends to press his nose against Don’s skin, inhaling the clean scent that seems to cling to the other’s skin. It’s familiar, reassuring. It makes him feel at home, despite being miles from Sheffield. Don tightens his hug almost imperceptibly, but David knows him well enough to recognise the gesture. He smiles against Don’s skin as the broader man begins to speak.

“I’ll tire you out tonight, make sure you can get to sleep. How’s that?”

David laughs, cheeks flushing a rosy pink that Don insists compliments his milky complexion. So firmly insists, in fact, that he takes it as a challenge to bring out the blush as often as possible. “It’ll do. Now, up you get-” David swats at Don’s arse lightly, earning him a deep chuckle. “Go and make us some tea. I’ve been waiting for ages.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends, i am still alive and still writing gay history lads. i've got something else in the works but i'm also, y'know, bad at committing so it might be another four years.
> 
> i'm so out of practice, my god.
> 
> you can come and yell at me at my obscurely-named [tumblr](http://eponymousorange.tumblr.com).


End file.
